


Precession

by 0pabinia



Category: Bartimaeus - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, Brotp, Gen, being a kid is hard and a several-thousand-year-old spirit certainly does not understand, played platonically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 06:22:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4950010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0pabinia/pseuds/0pabinia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ptolemy/Bartimaeus- played for friendship/moirallegiance</p><p>Some fourteen year olds can parse the secrets of the heavens, but no preteen can research their own sexuality (or lack thereof).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Precession

**Author's Note:**

> **Precession** is a change in the orientation of the rotational axis of a rotating body. In an appropriate reference frame it can be defined as a change in the first Euler angle, whereas the third Euler angle defines the rotation itself.

Below a firey orange sunset, below a flat roof covered with pigeons, a young boy stood in a pentacle and tapped his foot in annoyance at the manticore across from him.1

“What did I tell you about eating minor courtesans?!”

The manticore paced in its circle. “He insulted my hair!”

“That's no defense; you may change your form at any time. And remember, humans are their own entities. They have ideas and emotions like you, even if they aren't as long-lived.”

The manticore sulked as the boy continued.

“Anyway, do you want to accompany me on an astronomy expedition tonight? You don't have to if you don't want to.”

“ Do fish want to breathe air? Do gazelles want broken legs? Do I want to be stuck in this hellho - “

The boy cut him off with a wave of his palm. “ Will you?”

The manticore licked it's leonine paw. “Why not? But I need specifics.”

“Excellent!” Ptolemy furrowed his brow, clasped his hands together and recited in one breath: “I, Ptolemaeus of Alexandria do charge Bartimaeus of Uruk to transport me to a prime observational location and protect my physical, mental and emotional wellbeing from now until I return to this room at precisely one hour before sunrise tomorrow morning.” 

“That's very vague and generous of you,” sneered the djinni, who continued to groom his mane. “Why exactly do you want me to come with? I mean, this sounds like a pretty standard bodyguarding gig.”2

“I want to pick your brain about Sumerian star classification. And I need a bodyguard. Penrenutet is a tad slow on the draw. There are far sneakier brigands about in Alexandria, not to mention the lions and jackals in the desert.”

Soon, after all respectable citizens of Alexandria had returned home, an enormous black bird appeared on the rooftop with the boy, causing a mass migration of pigeons.3 The roc gingerly grabbed the boy with one giant talon and pushed itself into the sky, leaving lingering downdrafts to stir the dusty streets below.

We flew west of the Nile, past the monuments of the dead and into the dunes. I touched down only when I could not make out the lights of Alexandria to the east. I released Ptolemy gently4 on the soft sand, melting from the form of the roc back into the almost-manticore, which I figured was impressive enough to deter most local wildlife.

Ptolemy got to work immediately. 

“The reason I came tonight is because Jupiter and Saturn are especially visible. The constellation the Greeks call Pegasus is also particularly bright tonight. Tell me, Rekhyt, what did the Babylonians call that star cluster?'

He pointed, and I responded truthfully.

“ I never learned their names,” I admitted. “I was too busy lugging large blocks of limestone.”

A small sigh from Ptolemy.

“And besides, stargazing is kind of a no-no for our kind. Reminds us too much of home.”

Ptolemy's shoulders plummeted.

After that exchange, we sat in what I hoped was a companionable silence. Ptolemy made notes on his portable wax tablet. I twiddled my thumbs.5

Eventually, he leaned back into my furry manticore side. He shivered in the crisp desert air, and I laid my wing over his tiny frame.6

Ptolemy catalogued the Milky Way, and I began dreaming, in the way that spirits do, without sleep; simply letting fifty thousand years of exploits wash unfiltered through my conciousness. Ptolemy, however, took no such rest. Between scribbles he yawned broadly, sending a plume of water vapor into the cold air. The late hour must have been getting to him, because he sat up abruptly and spoke:

“Rekhyt, in your experience, is it normal to not feel attracted to anyone?”

I started.

“What do you mean?” I asked. “I don't know why you're asking me, because spirits don't reproduce sexually, and as a particularly high-class entity, I hardly ever entertain such notions. Except, of course, when there is a good prank invo-”

“I mean in humans. In your long list of masters, have their been those who don't -”

“Why're you asking? You got a cruuuush?”

Ptolemy screwed up his face so it resembled that of a dying wildebeest. It was very satisfying to get such a rise out of the kid. It made me remember that he was only fourteen years old, once you stripped his enormous vocabulary7 and mellow demeanor away.

“No, it's just that a good many of the boys my age are talking about girls and I just can't see it. It's just, I can't imagine-”

“Tell me about it.” The manticore stuck it's tongue out.

Ptolemy furrowed his brow. “Rekhyt, don't change the subject. Have you known anyone who simply wasn't attracted to other people?”

“Let's see.” I counted on my claws, growing more digits as the tally grew. “Hmm. No, nope, negative. Maybe? Oh wait, he got careless around attractive men. So no. Nada, no, no, not as such, probably not. Sorry kid, it seems to happen pretty rarely in humans. Or at least, in magicians.”8

Ptolemy sighed and consulted his star chart, and I knew I had said the wrong thing.

“It's a rare thing, not a bad one!” I backpedalled. “In fact, it gives you a leg up! No worrying if your mistress is secretly trying to assassinate you! No worrying that you'll be distracted by djinn with particularly clever guises! That's half the battle for magicians, isn't it? Living long enough to become fat and prosperous and immoral?”

Ptolemy was not responding. This was bad. Usually a jab to his moral compass could at least provoke a chuckle. Now he had curled up, hugging his skinny knees.

“Look, I'm sorry I can't give you any star names, but I can say that when I was first summoned, that star over there was at least five degrees east of where it lies now.”

The manticore lifted its grotesque paw to point.

“Everything is mutable, kid, and the insecurities you have today won't even be on the horizon tomorrow.”9

Ptolemy, still curled into his ball, muttered, “ I sure hope so.”

Then he sat up excitedly. “You said that the fixed stars move? How long does it take? Do they move relative to each other, or do they move independently?”

This was the Ptolemy I knew. One with so many questions in his head that his curiosity spilled over to infect his entire face. The one who wouldn't take 'I don't know' for an answer.

I answered, and Ptolemy scribbled hastily on the wax tablet. 

* * *

1\. [Well, not exactly a manticore. I had taken some artistic liberties with the face. The tail and hindquarters were scaly enough, the wings soft and membranous, but the front half was all lion; no human face. You lot are butt ugly.]↩

2\. [I mean, it's not like I didn't have any ideas. The desert is vast, and Ptolemy's build resembled a wet noodle. ]↩

3\. [And a short shower of pigeon poop.]↩

4\. [I hope.]↩

5\. [Twiddled my dewclaws. You get what I mean.]↩

6\. [Had Ptolemy been born approximately two thousand years later, he might have described the experience as something like being swaddled in warm plastic wrap.]↩

7\. [In Egyptian Demotic, Greek, Latin, Phonecian, Hebrew, Aramaic and a bit of old Assyrian. And that's just spoken.]↩

8\. [Most magicians, in my experience, liked to surround themselves with comely people of their preferred gender. Some liked to be surrounded by multiple genders of beauties. If any of them were too ensconced in their work to write sappy poetry, I certainly wasn't going to read their papers to find out. Either way, I welcomed any of my master's sexual attractions if I could take advantage of the sucker. ]↩

9\. [Not that I have any personal experience in the matter. As everyone knows, I was created perfect, and have remained mostly so.]↩

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago. Please tell me if you find any details at fault. Thanks for reading!


End file.
